


Ten Letters and Two Wars

by flightinflame



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Epistolary, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts, Love Letters, M/M, Original Percival Graves & Theseus Scamander Friendship, Original Percival Graves Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-11-08 02:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11071920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: When Percival's father arranges for him to correspond with a number of other young wizards throughout the world, Percival complies.  He doesn't expect anyone to write back, let alone for it to be the start of a lifelong relationship.





	1. Letter One: Percival, 17th August 1900

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TriffidsandCuckoos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriffidsandCuckoos/gifts).



> This is a fic I've been wanting to write for about six months now. I hope you enjoy.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Scamander,  
Father has decided that it would be suitable for a young wizard such as myself to make friends with people across the globe. Therefore he has given me a number of addresses, and is dictating an opening message to be read by your parents in order to ensure that I am a suitable correspondent. He would like to stress the high standing of the Graves family, and our links to aurors. As Mr. Scamander, Theseus’s father, is an auror, he hopes that this contact would be fruitful for both of us. Thank you for your consideration. If this offer meets with your approval please pass the rest of my letter on to your son, in the hope that the two of them will learn a great deal from each other.  
Yours sincerely,  
Percival Graves and Arthur Graves.

 

Dear Theseus Scamander,  
Thank you for agreeing to read my letter. Please pass on my thanks to your parents. Father has allowed me to write this bit myself, although I do not know what to say. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Percival Graves, I am nine years old. I am going to go to Ilvermorny in two summers time, and for now I have a tutor. When I am older I will be an Auror. There have been over thirty aurors in my family line, including one set of seven siblings, and two thirds of them have died in the line of duty. To fight and serve MACUSA is a great honour, and I will work hard to perform as is expected of me.

Father has chosen a number of people to write to. He wants me to make friends and build alliances with boys my own age. I am particularly excited to write to you because I am interested in Hogwarts. It has always sounded amazing from what I have been told. I hear you are allowed to take your wands home with you. I will not be allowed that until I am eighteen. We have our wands at school only. It is a shame - Father wishes for me to work on dueling with some of his friends' sons. Still, he hopes I will be able to learn at least enough wandless magic that I can fight. To be unable to fight is a weakness.

Please tell me about yourself. What is your favourite food? What is your favourite book? What are you best at at school? My tutor has been teaching me a little in the way of how to defend myself unarmed, drawing on No-Maj customs, but I have a lot to learn before I can be as skilled as father. What are you going to do when you are older? I hear you have a brother who has just turned three. I am an only child. Therefore it falls on me to continue the Graves name. I hope having a little brother isn't too irritating. Sometimes I think it would be nice to have friends my own age but I would not know how to communicate unless they were going to be aurors too.

Thank you again. I hope that you like this letter. I have been drafting it all week. Father wants it to be perfect. I look forwards to hearing from you and hope this will be the start of a true friendship.  
Yours Sincerely,  
Percival Graves.


	2. Letter Two: Theseus, 7th September 1903

Letter Two: 7th September 1903,  
Dear Percy,  
I can’t believe you made Wampus! I know you’ve been saying for years that’s where you want to go. Newt said wampus cats can read minds. He talked a lot about them since he heard you were there - he's sulking about the fact that Ilvermorny has magical creatures for their houses. I’m very proud and so are Mother and Father. Newt would like to check that your wand was made without any creatures being harmed (He nearly cried when he heard I had dragon heart string in my wand!) My wand is Dragon Heart String and Red Oak, which makes it good for duelling! Maybe one day we can duel together?

It was Newt’s seventh birthday two weeks ago. He got a puffskein, and I got him an enchanted dragon statue. He’s carrying both of them everywhere. He insists that the dragon statue gets its own food, which is quite cute. I’m writing this on my third night in my New Dorm – the teachers said the owls could take a letter to Ilvermorny, but I’m sorry if it gets lost. I guess if it gets lost you won’t read it? But sorry anyway.

I’m in Gryffindor, which is the best house because we are brave. I’m going to be a hero. I asked my Defence and Duelling teacher about your house and she said that Wampus house and Gryffindor both produce aurors, so she thinks you could be an auror. And I know you can. Hogwarts is really fun. There's staircases which move and a huge dining hall with an enchanted ceiling, and floating candles and there are broomsticks. I'm doing okay! I want to be on the Quidditch team and be a beater, but I don't know if I'll get the chance because that's more for the older years.

I do miss Newt though. You must be really lonely without any brothers or sisters. There's a squid in the lake, so I told Newt I'd make some notes. How are your classes going? I know you're going to be brilliant. We have a lot of essays to write, and I got caned yesterday for answering a teacher back - he picked on one of the Hufflepuff girls in History of Magic and made her cry. So I stood up for her because it's the right thing to do. My Defence and Duelling teacher healed my hands though, and she says that I need to learn to be more careful - that if I want to be a real hero, I have to learn to help people and not just get into fights because I'm angry. 

I need to tell Mother and Father that I've lost one of my books. I was practicing _Lumos_ and I got a little bit carried away. It caught fire a little bit. But I've been allowed to borrow a copy out of the library for a little while which is good. Have you got any detentions yet? I know you're a clever student, but I don't think I'm too bad. I just get into trouble. Mother says not to worry - she says I've got a hippogriff's heart. Newt cried at that until she explained what she meant. 

I should really do my homework but writing to you is a lot more fun. Please write back soon. Tell me what lessons you are doing! Do you have any clubs in your school? I'm in duelling club but I want to be in Quidditch. Try outs are next week. I'll let you know.  
Bye!  
Theece.

15th September 1903  
Hi Percy,  
Quick update - didn't make the Quidditch team this year but I've been picked for the broomstick relay round the castle. So I'll get good at flying fast. My transfiguration professor gave me a new copy of the book I set fire to. He says he's put a fireproofing spell on it. I only set fire to it once! But anyway, I hope you write back soon!  
Theece


	3. Letter Three: Theseus, 18th September 1907

18th September 1907,  
Dear Percy,  
Sorry I haven't written for a couple of weeks. There are so many essays now that I am in Fifth year. They keep going on about our future, about the roles we are going to play - they say we need to keep spreading our magic throughout the empire, and all kinds of things like that. I don't really care about any of that. 

I hear the Ministry and MACUSA have an exchange programme, and I want to try and get onto it - they take people when they get to at least 21, so I'll be applying in the summer of 1914. It'll be amazing to see you.

Newt has started, and he got sorted into Hufflepuff to the surprise of literally no one. Always said my baby brother was a sweet person, and there's the proof of it. Smart too, he's managed to already start taking extra classes. And the transfiguration teacher (you know, Dumbles, my favourite since that text book incident in first year) has said that Newt can have extra detentions in the owlery whenever he wants.

Pretty sure that Newt's the only person in all of Hogwarts that actually likes detention, but at least he seems happy. Not sure how many friends he's got, which is a bit of a worry, but at least he seems okay. People know I'm his brother, and they know that if I find anyone's getting bullied, then the bully is likely to end up with a black eye. Not even ashamed of it.

Top marks for duelling, and my big news: I've made beater! Gryffindor first team, and I'm absolutely delighted. It's great fun. We had our first match of the year - a friendly against Ravenclaw. Newt had managed to sneak his way into the Gryffindor stand, and he was this little burst of yellow among the red and gold, screaming his lungs out as I flew around the field.

He's still got Neil. That little dragon statue is the bane of half the teachers' lives - apparently the potions teacher tried to confiscate it, only to give it back when Newt started crying. He's not right in the head, my brother, but he's my brother and that's the important thing.

So yeah! I'm a beater for Hogwarts and my name is third on the Duelling merit chart - and given the top spots are occupied by a Malfoy and a Nott, really I've done amazingly. I'm kind of worried about the exams, but it'll be okay. Hopefully aurors need to be strong rather than smart. I know your training will be going well.

Hope you weren't too bored this summer. I was okay really, loads of flying around practicing on the farm. Newt had a go at the broomstick too - nearly fell off. He can go pretty fast mind you, maybe he can be a seeker. If I can get him to stop worrying about creatures. He's making notes in his textbooks.

Thanks for your last letter. I'm super impressed by the spells you are managing - always knew you were the clever one.

There's this boy in Hufflepuff called Adam. Think I mentioned him before - he's one of their chasers, and I broke his arm in tryouts last year. We're off on a date to Hogsmead next weekend. Don't think it's particularly serious, but he's fun enough to talk to.

Bye,  
Theece.

21st September 1907,  
Percy,  
Kind of worried you haven't wrote back yet. I guess you might have essays. But if it's about Adam, please don't worry. He's a nice enough guy, but it really isn't serious. Please don't hate me. Abraxus Malfoy tried to hex me earlier. Said it was filthy that I could like a man. But it isn't. It's just... I don't get what the difference is between liking guys and liking women. 

But if that matters to you, let me know. I care about what you think, and if I have to give up Adam to keep you I'll do it in a heartbeat. So please, just be honest with me. I can't change who I am. But you're my best friend, and I'd live a lie if it means I get to keep you with me. 

Guess that sounds pretty stupid.

Sorry about that.  
The school's supply of niffler pups for dissection have gone missing. Newt's being quiet about it, but his shirt was oddly squirmy last time I saw him.  
Theece.

21st September 1907,  
Theseus,   
You idiot, I have schoolwork as well.   
Hope the date went well.  
Your friend, always,  
Percival.


	4. Letter Four: Percival, 31st October 1908

31st October 1908  
Dearest Theseus,  
I am sorry that I have been quiet for the past few months. I am afraid that auror training has been rather exhausting, and finding the time or motivation to sit down with a pen has been a challenge. I am only managing today because we have been given the day off because of the holiday. There will be a feast later - none of the grandeur of a Hogwarts celebration, but a festive break from class none the less.

I hope that your own classes are going well - I know that you are still taking more general classes, because you don't specialise until after you finish. Are you still intending to be an auror? I do think that you would be good at it. You have a strong spirit, and you're a good fighter. Just do try not to disobey too many rules before you get into a position where you can challenge them: That was advice Picquery gave me last week when I was muttering to her about Chambers, and it's good advice. I have my normal mixture of classes, but am also taking evening classes on auror training run by Professor Chambers.

He is the kind of fool that you would most likely get into a fight with. He is a clever man, but not a kind one, and he is quick with the cane. He was an auror once, and has not yet forgiven the world for costing him that role and one of his legs. He has us up early in the mornings so that we may fit in two hours of duelling before class begins, and in the evening has us sweeping floors and other such tasks, all without the use of magic.

I seem to be a particular enemy of his, through no fault of my own - merely the fault of my skill and my family name. He tolerates Grimsditch despite the fact that the young man can barely charm a rat into a teacup, and he adores Picquery though she has no name. It is just that he cannot stand talent from among The Twelve. Writing "The Twelve" like that still looks ludicrous. I remember my first letter to you. I told you that I should be an auror, and that I would die in the line of duty because I was a Graves.

That is still true, though sometimes I wish it wasn't. I do hope your brother isn't too distressed at the Triwizard competition, and that Dumbledore has continued to give him detentions. I know you dislike the Lestrange family, but after your brother had such a terrible time last year, it must be good that he's made a friend other than Neil. Well done for your continued role as Beater - it's no surprise at all given your natural talent for smashing things up and causing chaos. At least that gives you a way of getting out your aggression without fighting the teachers.

Mother and Father said my last reports were acceptable - I scored highly in almost everything other than potions, and am still top of the Duelling board for my year. I do not think that Mother or Father would forgive me if that was to slip.

Picquery tells me that one day she will run MACUSA, and the ridiculous thing is that I believe her. So if and when she does - why not come and work in America? You could be an auror with me, and I promise not to overwork you. Newt could come too, and bring his dragon statue with him. I hope you don't mind that I've addressed the letter to you via the care of Newt - you said you wanted to check up on him, and thought that this would at least mean you could see him for now. Plus I know you said that the owls weren't keen on you, so I am trying to spare you an owl-based savaging. 

A lot of the other students are making plans to head home for the Yule holiday. I have spoken to Mother and Father, and we have all agreed it would be better if I remained at Ilvermorny over the break - that way I can do some more studies, and they don't need to worry about me: I will become better. Father says he wants me top of the school by spring.

Men like Chambers shouldn't work in schools. He just caught me writing a letter and asked why I wasn't concentrating on my school work, reminded me that I needed to focus if I did not want to disappoint the great name of Graves. I smiled and nodded and pretended that I didn't mind. But I need to write to you Theseus. Same as I need to be friends with Picquery. Sometimes it feels like I am being buried alive under the weight of expectations. As though my last name shall be my tomb.

It isn't that I don't want to be an auror. I do.

I just have no idea who I would be if I were not, and sometimes that realisation is a challenging one. 

Best of luck for the Quidditch Championship this year. If you win do send me the photograph from the school magazine - your photographs are always rather amusing.  
Your friend, always,  
Percival.


	5. Letter Five: Theseus, 7th February 1912

7th February 1912,  
Percy,  
Things are going up the creek here. Sorry I haven't been writing in a while - you weren't kidding when you said auror training was hard. It's going well though - they're looking at submitting my name for the MACUSA exchange, so I might get to go to America. 

Of course, that's all dependent on the world not exploding before then. There's tension, and the drums of war echoing, and all that stuff that I used to think was ridiculous. There's going to be a fight. It's clear from the looks on the Minister's faces and the way the aurors act. Abbot took me aside yesterday, told me not to pin all my hopes on MACUSA because the Muggles might mess it all up. 

There's talk of what will happen if war does come. If Hogwarts would be taken over, if it would be run like Durmstrang. In a way that would have been a god damned blessing. I've been given a week off work because of family stuff, so I've brought my notebooks to talk to you. I mean, I know you can't fix this. But talking to you helps. You're my oldest friend. I know that's ridiculous given that I've never seen you. But you know what to say.

Left Hogwarts three years ago, to go on for duelling training - and the European championships were fun. I know you kept the photographs. I wondered if you had a copy of that one with Newt in the background, a puffskein in his hair as he cheers me on? It's one of my favourites, and if I could have it back I would be grateful. 

I really don't want to write this. It's about Newt. The little bugger's gone and got himself expelled and we're all at our wit's end. I love him Perce. You know that more than anyone. I love him and I want to help, but he's crying and he won't let me near to help. Won't let anyone near. Because he's too angry. He's angry at me, at the world, and most of all at himself.

Hogwarts won't tell us exactly what's gone wrong. Just that he was involved in an incident that nearly killed another student, and that he's expelled for it.

I can hear him crying through the walls. I'll finish this later.

Sorry about the delay there. It's... it's bloody wrong, that's what it is. It's that Lestrange girl's fault. I've never liked her, and you always said I should be patient. Well I was, and now my brother's broken hearted. They snapped his wand.

She did it. She led him into an experiment, and when he said that they should stop she carried on. But she's from a respected family. Our equivalent of the Twelve, and I hate her for that. She's ruined his life. And he agreed, that's the worst of it. Because he knew Mother would let him work with the hippogriffs. He can clean stables even if he doesn't have magic, and the flock like him. So he's here and she's still at school, still respected by her family - I swear, the things I would do if I was given a chance - I'm an auror now. I know how to take someone apart piece by piece. But Newt doesn't want me to.

He'll say she was kind to him, as though it excuses everything. And I can't say she used him the entire time, not without dashing his dreams. I hate it. I hate all of it Perce. I've always been there for him and now I don't know what I could begin to say. How I could begin to fix this. I don't think this is fixable.

If the blokes at work are right, and war is coming, then I don't know what will happen to him. He's too fragile for a soldier anyway, and he never got the hang of duelling. If he'd been at Durmstrang they would have permitted it - they've got no issue with lives being put in danger there.

He's asked me to teach him with my wand. I'll give it a go - I couldn't ever say no to him - but I doubt it'll work. She could have stopped this.

Sorry. I know I've been complaining too much, I just don't know what to do. He's my baby brother and I love him but I wish he wasn't this stupid. If war breaks out he's going to be defenceless.

I was really enjoying auror training before this. Thought I could help those who really needed it. Now I'm not so sure - I can't even help my own brother when he needs me. I hope you're still doing well - I know you will be. You've always been a genius. You've always been the one who is good at this.

If I do get the transfer for a few months, I may bring Newt with me. It'll be good for him to leave this house. He spends almost all of his time in the stables, and his heart is breaking because that woman hasn't written to him once.

I wish things would go back to how they used to be.  
Sorry to be such a misery.  
Bye,  
Theseus


	6. World War One, 1915-16

The drums of war which Theseus had written about in his letters for the past few years were well and truly ringing it now. Europe and the colonies had been plunged into bitter conflict, and Percival had been one of those to sign up to assist the British wizards. There was no love lost between MACUSA and the Ministry, but individual wizards got on well enough. More than that though, for the younger aurors the war represented an opportunity to prove themselves, to go out into a foreign land and make a name for themselves.

As a Graves, Percival was expected to come back a hero. So that was what he did. He signed up and took a portkey over to Belgium, while the American No-Majs were still unsure if they wanted to take part in this fight. 

Percival had studied the old wars since childhood, knew of famous mages on dragonback and No-Maj heroes on horseback. He didn't relish the idea of death - it was a part of his work, but not one he enjoyed. He simply appreciated the chance to serve his country, to be the hero he had always wished to be. He pictured gallantry and heroics on the battlefield.

What he got was mud. Theseus's last letter had said "the weather could be better and the ground is a little muddy", but that was apparently his friend's gift for understatement. The mud was thick and tried to suck people into its depths. He had seen horses drowned in the filth. The bombs echoed overhead, and he and the other Americans who had volunteered were shuffled throughout the lines with little guidance. Every few weeks meant new units, new men to fight alongside and maybe die alongside.

"Bad luck," one of the officers, a greying wizard with a uniform that seemed to change the longer you looked at it, told him as he approached. He had been told to bring his kitbag to the officer's tent for details of an assignment, and judging by the man's expression it wasn't going to be good news. "You've been selected for special duties. Apparently one of the Brits asked for you by name."

Even knowing that he could fight well enough to live up to his family's reputation, Percival felt a flush of anger at that statement. Someone he had never met had picked him off of a list, and had decided that when they needed someone to risk their life he was their person of choice.  
"What kind of thing will I be doing sir?"  
"A couple of the British aurors have been handling a werewolf outbreak up by the coast," he was informed, and then handed a Portkey. "Apparently they've seconded you for the foreseeable future. Assuming you survive the initial case you'll be running up and down the front dealing with whatever outbreaks they want to keep hidden from No-Majs. You manage to help and you'll come back with a medal for sure."

Percival nodded, letting the truth pass unspoken between them - if he didn't manage to keep up with the elite unit, or if he made a mistake, he wouldn't be coming back at all. His body would be lost to the wretched stinking mud, and he would be gone.

He smiled, saluted smartly, and nodded.  
"Thank you for the opportunity sir."  
"Do me proud," tTe officer answered, and then activated the portkey. The world spun away from him, whisking him from the familiar tents.

***

He found himself in the deserted shell of a farmhouse. The building offered some protection from the elements at least, but appeared to be empty. He didn't dare call out, instead he withdrew his wand and made his way through the remains of the building, ready to be ambushed at any second. There were steps leading to a basement. He crept down to find two basic beds made up, hidden by a Notice-Me-Not charm. 

He moved closer and saw that the books that were scattered around were in English - a Millicent Boon that looked particularly well-read, and a book explaining tactics. There was also a book on werewolves open on the pillow of one of the beds. 

Sure now that he was in the right place, he continued to explore. There was some food in the kitchen - not much, but a relative feast compared to the trenches themselves. He could still hear the shelling, but the sound was more distant, and he was grateful for that as well. This place was falling apart, but compared to the dugouts it was like a hotel.

He considered unpacking his bag, but instead chose to explore the edges of the encampment, unsurprised to find that the entire area was hidden beneath a second Notice-Me-Not charm. That, and other wards protecting them from debris, meant that this place was unlikely to be found or destroyed.

He was beginning to poke at some of the more interesting looking wards surrounding the camp when he heard people approaching, laughing together. He quickly clamped down on the flush of jealousy he always felt at the sound of people getting on so well together - he had never mastered the art of friendship, aside from a rare few. Instead, he smiled as two men strode into view. One was smartly dressed - an English gentleman with curly brown hair and a face that he instantly knew.  
"Scamander?" 

"Graves!" The man reached out to shake his hand, and then seemed to think better of it, instead pulling him into a quite vicious hug. "I was worried you hadn't got my invite or weren't going to come and join us, really we get all the interesting things here and I thought troop duty would drive you mad-"  
"Who is this?" interrupted the man beside Theseus - he was shorter than Theseus, and had a rather unpleasant hooked nose and dark hair. The accent was unusual - Percival would later learn that it was from the Welsh valleys, but initially the pronunciation just struck him as odd.  
"Sorry." He paused. "This is Percival Graves, the American I told you about. Percival, this is Mary Collins."

Percival raised an eyebrow - the man looking at him didn't look much like a Mary. Only as he looked her features softened, her hair gaining a reddened glow and lengthening to waves that reached her shoulders.   
"When I'm male call me Max Collins, or just Collins," she said with a smile.  
"You're a metamorphagus?"  
"One of the best. I keep this bastard here out of trouble and try to stop the entire enemy army coming down on his head. Way he tells it, you're able to control him some. If so I'm glad to have you on board, because god knows this man needs some controlling."

"You say that like you think he's going to listen to a word I say," Percival teased.   
"The way he talks about you, I think he will. You're a lucky man apparently. Only one he writes to other than his brother."

Percival paused, glancing at Theseus.  
"What happened to Newt?"  
"He's been spared enlisting thank goodness, without a wand he'd be ripped to shreds on the battlefield. He's staying at home to help on the farm... we've been planning to come to America when all this blows over - we'd have done it before but things have been pretty tough out here and it's hard to get leave."  
"I understand,." Percival reassured him. "I'll look forwards to when you do visit though - assuming you will?"  
"I certainly intend to." Theseus promised, his words accompanied by another intense hug.

Percival returned the embrace with a smile, struck by how familiar Theseus felt when they had only just met.

***

The first few days were surprisingly peaceful - Theseus showed Percival what progress had already been made, and Collins would search for further clues. Percival stuck to calling the metamorphagus Collins, because it was easier than seeing if they were currently Max or Mary - he had initially assumed the change was merely so that they could come out to the front, but now he was less sure. He didn't feel it was right to ask.

Regardless, Collins was a smart young auror with a lot of potential and a huge amount of talent when it came to transfiguration, and Percival was sure that MACUSA could find a place for them among their ranks if the Ministry was at all unwelcoming. He suggested it to the two of them at dinner.

Collins laughed, brushing her hair out of her eyes and smiling shyly, while Theseus leaned in and hugged her.  
"I told you you were good."  
"I'm only here because you insisted on it," she argued. "You put up with me because you and my brother used to fuck."  
"I put up with you because you're a good auror and you need a service record," he argued, and again jealousy twinged in Percival's chest - this time not at Theseus's having friends but instead at the closeness of their relationship and the thought of previous intimacies. He had Seraphina of course, but there were few people he felt as close to as Theseus and Collins were.

Collins had found some food that day, and they ate well before falling asleep. Theseus snored a little, and Percival could hear it from his bed. A particularly loud noise woke him, and he considered smothering his friend beneath a pillow before realising the noise was from outside.

There was someone outside their ruined cottage. Percival stood up, creeping to the window, where he could make out a couple of figures in the gloom. He woke Theseus in silence, and Collins as well.

The three of them crept to the door, wands drawn, ready to be plunged into conflict. A wolf jumped towards them, knocking Collins off his feet. Theseus swept the wolf away, as Percival ran forwards, plunging into a duel with the three other wizards that were there. Collins joined him after a moment, and Theseus shortly after, the three of them standing with their backs together. That would enable them to defend each other from attacks coming from any angle. 

Percival managed to send one of the attacker's wands flying, as Theseus and Collins sent ropes wrapping around the wolf. It snarled, biting at its bonds as Theseus took down a third man. There was one left, sending slashing curses towards him. Percival tried to block them, stumbling a little from the violence. He couldn't counter, too focused on defense.

It was Theseus who brought the man down, running to the side and sending a binding spell. As he fell to the ground, Collins was already tying the others together, keeping the wolf separate and immobilised. Once they were imprisoned, Theseus set off to get a clean up squad to take them in and interrogate them. They'd removed the threat, and that was their job done.

***

Percival walked in to find Theseus sitting on the bed. He frowned a little - he had just seen Theseus outside gathering water.  
"Collins?"  
"Outside." Theseus grinned, as the other Theseus arrived. The two of them looked at each other and laughed, before there was a pause.  
"Well clearly it's me."  
"I'm far more handsome."  
"I've got a ridiculous little brother," the other counter-argued.

"I saw a letter from Newt earlier," Percival said, and one Theseus leaped for the note as the other laughed and faded into Collins once more.  
"Your face." He grinned, then frowned at the look in Theseus's eyes. "What's up?"  
"He's an idiot," Theseus spat. "He's enlisted. In the dragon corps."  
"Without a wand?"  
"He's been given one," Theseus answered. "But those... they're pretty tough, you know how it is. There's fighting all the time, and it's rough guys. Newt is delicate-"  
"Newt will cope," Percival tried to reassure him. "If anyone can handle dragons it's him, he'll be happy there."

Theseus opened his mouth to reply, only to freeze at the sound of an explosion. Chunks of masonry started to fall from the ceiling. Percival grabbed Theseus and apparated out of the building, staring at the pile of rubble that had been their temporary home. He glanced around - he couldn't see Collins.  
Theseus drew his wand, turning towards the rubble.  
"Collins!"

"Look for Collins," Percival ordered. "I'll guard us..." He threw up defensive shields, panting a little as he tried to ensure they would be safe from any attacks. Behind him he could hear Theseus digging through the rubble, but the two of them needed him to keep them safe.

"She's breathing!" Theseus called out as he pulled Collins' unconscious body from the rubble. She was laying limply, her eyes closed and forehead bloody. He began to try and cast any healing spells he knew, while Percival blocked the bullets that had begun striking the shields he had put up.   
"Get her out of here Theseus," he ordered. He heard the pop of apparation behind him, and he was left alone. He waved his wand, sending the bullets back at his attackers. He was slowly beaten back, outnumbered. He didn't think he was going to survive, but he could only hope that he would have bought the other two the time he needed.

There was a pop of apparation behind him, and he waited to feel a wand at the back of his neck. Instead, his shields were strengthened, and he turned to see Theseus standing there, shaking a little from the effort. He smiled at Percival, and Percival returned the smile, striding forwards.

By the time the battle was over, he was exhausted. Theseus was shaking, but they still ensured the enemies were mopped up before they went to see Collins. He was lying limp in his bed, his eyes unfocused.  
"They're... they're sending me home," he whispered, the words clearly paining him. A nurse set out a catalogue of injuries - broken ribs and a cracked skull standing out among them. Theseus embraced him, and Percival shook his hand.  
"Get home safe," Theseus demanded.  
"Write to us," Percival said with a smile.   
Collins nodded, whimpering at the burst of pain. The nurse shooed them away, busy with others who had been injured.

Percival and Theseus returned to their shelter, gathering what they could of their property and then heading in search of somewhere else to set up camp. Theseus led the way to another ruined farmhouse. They were both too exhausted to transfigure a bed, so they lay down on the floor together.  
"I should have been-" Theseus started, and Percival pressed his hand to Theseus's chest.  
"You did all you could. You got Collins out."

Theseus whimpered, and leaned in to kiss him fiercely. Percival was startled but didn't respond, and after a moment Theseus pulled away. He was shaking and Percival held him, letting Theseus sob into his shoulder. The two of them clung to each other, desperate and frightened.

***

Sharing a bed became a familiar event - not necessarily being intimate. Merely being within touching distance, so that the two of them could ensure that they weren't alone. After what had happened to Collins, neither of them could face finding themselves trapped. Sometimes they wouldn't sleep. One or the other of them would be awake, ready to defend them, as the other caught a few minutes of sleep.

He woke one morning to find Theseus gazing at him.  
"I'm glad I finally met you," Theseus muttered. "This place is hell, but having you is good." He swallowed. "You've been my oldest friend."  
Percival opened his mouth to say something supportive only to freeze when Theseus raised a hand.  
"Let me finish," Theseus pleaded. Percival nodded, and Theseus took a few shaking breaths before he spoke.   
"I have to talk to you," Theseus mumbled. "I've been in love with you for years. Since... since I was fifteen at least. When I was with Adam, I used to wish it was you, but... I'm sorry."

Percival felt sick. His own fondness for Theseus was wrong, but he had always been able to ignore it, to tell himself it would never be reciprocated. The idea that it might have been was worrying.  
"I'm sorry. I feel the same."

Theseus laughed a little.  
"We're ridiculous," he muttered. "But we're good for each other. We've always been good for each other. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you, would never have become an auror..." He sighed and shook his head. Percival laughed a little, and went to make breakfast.

***

The day that they both became 'War Heroes' in the papers, and in the eyes of their respective departments, a mixed No-Maj and wizard battalion was ambushed by a dozen dementors. Theseus nearly lost his life. For the next few weeks, the focus was on helping Theseus block his nightmares, Percival's arms around him as a support rather than a lover. When Theseus started to laugh again at Newt's letters Percival had felt a burst of hope, but Theseus's eyes were still haunted, and the man still jumped at shadows. 

Being a hero was nothing compared to Theseus being hurt. But the two of them slept in each other's arms, hugging and talking softly about what had happened, the nightmares eased by being close to each other. It was clear Theseus was exhausted.

Theseus whimpered, glaring at a letter that was in front of him.  
"The Ministry want me to go back. Want me to work for them after I've made such a success of it. I'm not sure I should-"  
"You should," Percival told him, even though he felt reluctant to part ways with him. "Your success will be useful for them. And you and Collins can see each other..."  
"You want me to see Collins?" Theseus asked with a frown.  
"Not like that. But you... you need to recover. If you come back out, I'll see you-"  
"I know." Theseus sighed. "I guess we don't get to have a happy ending."   
Percival sighed and wrapped his arms around him.   
"Go to the Ministry. Go and be the hero that you need to be." He cuddled Theseus and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I'll miss you," Theseus mumbled.  
"I'll miss you too." Percival swallowed. "But we've got different places to go ..." 

Theseus sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and then nodding. He headed off to see the general as requested.

The next morning, Percival was reassigned to another unit. Letters soon resumed.


	7. Letter Six: Percival, 20th December 1918

20th December 1918,   
Dearest Theseus,  
It is a relief to hear that your brother has been hired by the Ministry to work with creatures. After his sterling work with dragons during the war, I don't think it was ever in any doubt, but I know what sticklers for tradition they can be. After his expulsion there would be some who think he should be ignored by our kind, but he has his own talents. It's good to hear that Collins is doing well - a metamorphagus with their level of skill would be of great benefit to MACUSA, if they ever decide that the Ministry isn't for them. If Seraphina's right that one day she is going to be President, with me as a high-ranking auror, I'd love to have them on board.

I guess... well, the thing is, I have been really missing you since we've parted ways. I think getting back to England was the best thing for you, after everything that happened. I hope that the dementors' injuries are fading. You were lucky that day - I thought I'd lost you. 

I know that both of us belong with our respective departments. I'm going to be moving up to a senior auror soon, and you've got your family in England. But the war was fun. Horrific of course, and I wish I had never seen some of the things we saw. But we were together. It was strange how easily we fitted together - if you were in MACUSA we would do well on missions together I think. I can trust you to have my back. But I understand.

Things have been busy here. A few people have been dabbling in potions. But worse... a lot of people lost those they love in the war. Magic and No-Maj alike. And there are people out there taking advantage of it. We had to arrest a metamorphagus last week, who had moved in with a No-Maj family who had lost their oldest child. He was taking advantage of their wealth. There are others pretending to carry messages, all kinds of things like that. It's a dark business. I think a lot of the men brought the war home with them, in their hearts and in their souls. There are monsters on the streets now.

I think there always were. Not the kind your brother deals with. Nothing as simple and pure as a dragon or a lethifold. But monsters none the less, and ones that would cause a lot of harm if they got the chance. 

I've been trying to keep up with the news, but it isn't always easy to see what is happening. It sounds like the No-Majs are still arguing among themselves about what kind of peace they want, even if the most likely result is bringing more war. I know your arguments, we discussed them enough times, but I can't forgive them for what they've done. My oldest ancestor gave his life because of No Maj persecution, and it's still there today.

I miss you. I know it sounds ridiculous, and I know I've said it before, but I just want you to know that you are missed. It's not practical, not with the lives we've carved out. But it's true.

I'm sending this letter with some presents for your family. A dragon statue for Newt, some potion ingredients your father asked for, a new quill for your mother, and a scarf in those hideous colours of scarlet and gold you love so much. I hope you have a good Christmas, and I hope the next year is better than this one.  
With the best of wishes,  
Percival


	8. Letter Seven: Theseus, 19th April 1919

19th April 1919,  
Percy,  
Greetings from Jolly Old England and all that. Weather is awful. It's April and the rain is pretty constant. I mean, I can swim and all, but this is a bit much. Hope America's doing a bit better than this. Cooper is muttering about metamorphagusing into a fish. Can't say I blame them in this. I've considered adding gillyweed to my food.

Of course, it's alright for Newt. Bastard has buggered off to sunnier climbs. Turns out that not only have the Ministry licensed his new wand, but they got him a job with house elves. Now, you remember what I told you from Hogwarts. Newt gets on well with house elves, but not with the people around them. So the Ministry's been trying to shake him off. 

They've only gone and done it. Some rich wizard, Augustus Worme of Obscurus Books - you must know them, they brought out _A Brew To A Pill: 101 Potion Techniques_ , _The Long and Short of Size Transformations_ and _You Only Live Thrice: A Guide To Time Turners_ \- has taken quite the shine to our Newt. Says he's an undiscovered genius. Now, Newt's definitely an undiscovered something, and I love the boy, but I'm still amazed. Because Mister Worme's given him a book deal. He's off swanning around the world, making notes on creatures, and he couldn't be any happier.

Only Newt being Newt, he's not just watching and writing about creatures. That would be far too safe and sane for him. He's found a suitcase (well, it might have been brought home by me from one of the confiscation warehouses, but he'd explained what he needed for so I don't think it was bad to bring it to him) that's had an expansion charm placed on it. There's a Muggle-worthy setting, which he's using for his stuff, and then there's a space inside which is almost as big as the warehouse it came from. He says he's going to rescue creatures, and bring them in there to study. I don't know if I should be worried or impressed, so at the moment I'm going for both. There's a lot of dangerous creatures out there and you know what Newt's like. Not happy unless he's holding something with too many teeth, or spines, or teeth and spines - still, he's out of the country and that means any chaos he causes isn't my problem.

I miss you. Bloody hell I miss you, and you're so far away. There's a discussion of me being moved onto longer term investigations, and if that happens I'll be doing as well as you. I'm hoping to move into liasing with different countries - Hogwarts and Durmstrang are considering an exchange program, so all being well I can carry out the necessary checks for both. Then onto more interesting crimes. Best case scenario is me getting a few cases that bring me over across the pond. 

If I need some place to stay I can crash at yours right? 

Don't worry, I'll outrank you soon enough. You're a good looking guy, but we both know who kicked the dementors' ass in the war. There you were, holding back a whole flock of them (I should ask Newt if flock's the right word) and I was right in the middle of it unconscious. Running into trouble head first. That really should be my family's motto. I'll see if Newt wants it engraved on that damned suitcase of his - I'm sure it'll get him into trouble. 

Neil the Dragon Statue is apparently travelling with him, and I'm on standby to hear that it's run amok in some Muggle village. Maybe we can claim it's a rat if that happens, it's about the right size.

As you can tell, life in Britain is alright. Weather's rubbish, work's overwhelming and my brother's sodded off across the globe to write about creatures. But everything's going well. If you find yourself in England you can stay with me, so you better be willing to return the favour. Otherwise I'll set one of Newt's pets on you. (Don't tell him I called them pets, I don't need another lecture.)

Hoping to see you soon,   
These.  
P.S. SWALK - you remember that one from the war? Well, BOLTOP, and maybe that'll happen soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: SWALK: Sealed with a loving kiss, BOLTOP: Better on lips than on paper, both of these date from WWII but Theseus and Percival are clearly ahead of their time. Huge thanks to echan, lourdes and fahre for suggesting these wonderful book titles


	9. Letter Eight: Percival, 30th January 1921

30th January 1921,  
Dearest Theseus,  
As always your latest stories about Newt's adventures (and your own) is enough to brighten my days. I know there's been a slight pause in my writing - and for that I must blame Madam President. She's been working me ragged - and I couldn't be prouder. I knew, from when I met her in Ilvermorny, that she was the kind for greatness. I was right. It's wonderful to see how well she is doing. So many people look at her and think that she is beneath them, when she is above them. Always has been. And I am proud of her. 

Currently we're dealing with a few issues with No-Majs who are forming ideas - there's a few descendants of squib lines who know enough to be dangerous. _A little knowledge is a dangerous thing_ \- Pope, wasn't it - and all that. I think I've broken down some of the larger risks, but I'm not sure what's going to happen next. That at least keeps the job exciting.

Now your brother has crossed Europe, Asia and Africa off of his list, I'm expecting that now he will want to visit here. He's welcome to stay - although if the list of what is in his suitcase is anything like what you've told me he'd better leave it in England before it comes, including his little stick insect. You know the rules, and unlike your brother you know the reasoning for it. I'd hate to have to arrest him, it really would make things awkward and we're on such good terms at the moment.

There was an attack the other day - someone trying to use some of the President's hair to impersonate her - they want to make things worse. Importing European ideals of blood purity and all that sickness. A Southern wizard by the name of Thomas Dales, who is discussing the possibility of all out war with the No-Majs. If he brings it about it's destructive. I'm not sure how he thinks he's going to get away with it, and no one would believe he was the President. But it's still a risk - people are using the tricks that they learned on No-Majs during the war, and targeting us. All we need is one witch or wizard to pull off a convincing impersonation, and chaos will follow. We've started issuing code words for conversations, trying to keep things moving but being sure. It's a worry. We're living in fear worse than we have for a century. Even writing this I'm worried about if this will reach the real you. I think in future we need to use our own codes in our letters, along with the protective spells. It certainly won't cause any harm, and might mean that you get a warning if you ever need one. I'm going to make sure that I always refer to the weather in the last sentence of a letter. You do something similar, or whatever suits you, as long as we are able to confirm our identities.

Congratulations on getting your own task force - I always knew that you were going to get there. You've got a dozen European aurors at your command, and I'm guessing that your days of hunting backstreet potions dealers and monitoring school children are gone. Not quite "Director Of Magical Security" level, but passable enough. If you have any need to liase with America, let me know - I've got a few aurors I think you'd like to meet. And congratulations on managing to transfer Collins to your team - they're a damn good auror, and I feel better knowing that someone I trust has your back.

Hope your mother's latest breeding project has gone well. It all sounds like a ridiculously dangerous risk to me, but I suppose you know what you're doing, and hopefully you won't be eaten. After everything you've said about Newt's creatures, perhaps the hippogriffs aren't that dangerous. Maybe they'll just devour a hand or an arm, not the entirety of you. I've got my fingers crossed. Which is more than you'll be able to do if the hippogriff does attack. What an ending for a War Hero - devoured by his mother's oversized and grumpy horse-eagle.

It's too warm. At least in MACUSA we have cooling spells, I have no idea how the No-Majs manage to cope with it all.  
With the best of wishes and the deepest of respect  
Percival


	10. Letter Nine: Theseus, 6th August 1926

Percy,   
Miss you still. Was really good to see you at the International Auror Conference in Paris, and to catch up. Even if you do steal the quilt you tea-spilling bastard. It's been all hands on deck recently with this Grindewald case.

I'm not sure what you've heard of it. It's causing absolute chaos. Apparently the man has always been trouble, and had some rather violent history ever since his school days. He was thrown out of Durmstrang, and that takes some doing. Nearly killed a younger student. Since then he's been spreading some fairly terrible ideas - he's of the opinion that Muggles are there just for us to use as slaves, that their lives don't matter, that they can be killed without consequence. All the fun kind of ideas you hear bandied around by blood purists, but only now saying that it's power instead. And that idea is intoxicating.

He's recruiting Muggleborns, which the blood purists never manage. After a lifetime of being told they're inferior, that somehow they aren't seen as true wizards, he's telling them that they are just as valuable as any others, that they are fully powerful. That they are above the Muggles that so many see them as. And of course, half the aurors in the Ministry have blood purity ideas, so that's all going to hell in a handbasket. Collins is damn invaluable whenever I can steal them from the more general department - they're quick and smart and they get the work done without fuss. Which makes them about the only person in the department – everyone else seems to be trying to make my life difficult.

Wish I was in America. Newt's latest letter is full of these ideas he has of Arizona and of the desert. It sounds incredible. One day I will visit there with you, I think we would have a lot of fun there, and we will use cooling spells. I fear if we don't then I will turn into a puddle, and you will have to explain to the Ministry why their favourite Auror melted.

Not entirely sure if I'm going to make it to the next international conference - we've got Grindelwald sightings from Germany, France and Finland. Some of them simultaneously. So either the charismatic bastard has a time turner, he's managing to multitask using portkeys, or the reports are a mess. I know which of the three I am going to vote for, but that'd just be me. Your reports are more lively than ours, but even ours gets in a mess quite often.

Good to hear that Mme Picquery is continuing to do well. She is a very impressive woman, and it is always rather fun to see her destroying our Minister when they come face to face. She is smarter than him, but that's hardly surprising given that she isn't inbred and given that she can manage to make it through a speech without contradicting herself. 

One day we're going to go on holiday together, and leave all the stress behind us. We aren't going to think about work for a whole day, and then probably some kind of disaster will come along and we'll be too busy to do anything other than yell at each other about the chaos (and maybe fuck in a quiet corner, we're pretty good at that one). Maybe we should try a maze, they have a lot of corners... It's your choice of course. We don't have to use corners. As long as you don't steal the blankets next time. I have a licence to use unforgivables!

As always, England is full of rain. And fog. First thing in the morning and I can't even see to the end of the street. Newt's been sending me photographs of the beach, the little bugger. But he's having fun. Apparently he's rescued a demiguise, and he's now off chasing dealers of occamy eggs. No idea how he's keeping track of all the names. But when he's in America obviously he won't have any illegal creatures. Because that would be bad. And Newt totally listens to what I have to say and always has... I think this might be one of the times where we're best off turning our back and pretending we can't see anything.

These


	11. Letter Ten: Percival, 18th October 1926

18th October 1926  
Mister Scamander,  
Good to hear your brother is well. Hope the cases you are working on are resolved. I'm sure the Grindelwald situation is keeping you occupied.

Pass on my birthday wishes to Collins. I wish her all the best for her special day.

Rather busy here, so I won't be writing for a while. Don't write to me until I contact you first.  
P. Graves


	12. War With Grindelwald: Recovery

Theseus stared down at the paper in his hand with a sudden sense of sickness. There was something very wrong here, he was sure of that. He knew Percival, had known Percival since they were children. Percival had never addressed him as Mister Scamander, or been so abrupt about Newt. Percival had served alongside Collins in the war, and would never call them her without knowing that was Collins' current identity. Everything about the letter screamed its wrongness at him.

Over the past few years, they had been busy. Long letters were a rarity, but even the brief few lines that were dashed off were written with fondness which wasn't shown in this letter. 

Theseus was fairly sure that Percival hadn't written this letter. Which meant that someone else had.

He tried to contact a couple of aurors over in the USA, letting them know his concerns, but he heard no response, and he was busy with what was happening with Grindelwald. He lost track for a little while, until a letter arrived from Newt. Newt's letter was different. Newt's letter told him simply that he had been arrested and nearly killed 'due to a little misunderstanding'. A follow up letter a couple of days later set out what had happened in a little more detail.

Theseus, expert auror, had messed up. Rather than dealing with Grindewald, he had chased his own tail across Europe as Grindelwald kidnapped and impersonated his best friend. Now Percival was missing, and Theseus felt sick. He stared at the last line of the letter.  
'MACUSA isn't holding out much hope. But I thought you should know. If anyone could find him, you could.'

Percival was laying somewhere, trapped, possibly dead. No one was taking care of him now. No one knew where he was.

Theseus headed straight to the Minister's office, looking him straight in the eye.  
"Scamander," the Minister said curiously. "I presume you know that your suspect has been found in MACUSA?"  
"I know." Theseus answered. "I want to go and investigate, I have to travel to America."  
The Minister regarded him curiously for a moment, and then nodded.  
"America huh?"  
"I know more about Grindelwald than anyone else sir. If anyone is going to be able to ensure he doesn't escape, it's me. Please, let me try."

"Granted." The Minister smiled for a moment. "Take a few days if you need to. I know that you and Graves are close, and if you're able to find him he'll need your help."

Theseus managed a shy smile. He knew his relationship with Percival was public knowledge, but it was still a surprise to see it acknowledged in this way.   
"Thank you sir."  
"I'd say any time, but I really don't want you to do this again, understood? If you are investigating someone please make sure that they don't try and take over MACUSA, it really doesn't look good on anyone."  
"Understood sir." Theseus agreed, before heading out to get a portkey.

***

An hour later he was being briefed by aurors Fontaine and Goldstein about what had happened. 

The door opened and his brother rushed into the room. Newt's long peacock-blue coat fanned out around him. He embraced Theseus tightly.  
"I missed you."  
"You were the one who went travelling," Theseus argued. "You went out around the world finding creatures-"  
Newt fell silent, burrowing his face into his brother's shoulder, lost in his thoughts. Theseus rubbed his back soothingly.

"You haven't come here for Grindelwald," Newt said softly. "Don't waste your time on him."  
"Any ideas?"  
"We've been searching his house, and locally for information or any clues - we think he went missing a month or more-"  
"I got a letter from the 18th of October that wasn't from him," Theseus told him. "I just didn't have time..." His voice trailed off. Newt squeezed his shoulder.  
"He was using polyjuice, and that means he must have been keeping him alive." Newt nodded.

"Interrogation?" he asked Fontaine. Fontaine shook his head.   
"He's good. He twists our words. Worked with us and knew our secrets. We can keep asking him, but I don't think you should. I don't think you'd like what you heard."

Theseus managed a faint smile despite the pain of those words.  
"I'd rather look for him," he agreed.

"I won't waste my time on that man if I can avoid it, not when he's just trying to play us." Theseus ran his fingers through his own hair, feeling almost overwhelmed by despair. It wasn't right. Percival was out there somewhere, and the more time he wasted with Grindelwald the more chance that there was that Percival would be struggling, maybe even starving. He had to find him.

He turned to Fontaine. "Can you let me visit his home?" He'd never visited Percival's place before, but it had to be the place to start. It was his best opportunity, with Percival out there somewhere. Fontaine nodded and reached for his hand, apparating him away from the office. 

The room that they were in was familiar to Theseus - he had seen dozens of rooms like this, in the ancient houses of dozens of the old families.   
"This isn't his home," he said firmly, and Fontaine nodded. There was a faint smile on Fontaine's lips, as though he had passed whatever test the other auror wanted to give him. But none of this formality met with what he knew of Percival. None of this was his life. Someone who knew Percival only in passing, who knew the image he presented to the world, might have been fooled, but Theseus wasn't. Not for a second. Fontaine considered him for a moment before speaking.

"Officially this is his place, but there's another place nearby that he goes to most nights - this is for visitors, and for keeping up appearances."  
"You're from one of the twelve families aren't you?" Theseus asked, and Fontaine nodded, then apparated them both away from the area, to Percival's real home.  
If the first building had felt cold, this one gave an instant sense of familiarity to Theseus. There wasn't the kind of chaos he saw within Newt's rooms - everything here was ordered and elegant. But there were the occasional flourishes that marked the rooms as Percival's - a photograph of Seraphina tucked among books, a blanket hidden beneath the end of the sofa, a writing desk by the window so that Percival could look at the view as he composed letters. He looked at Fontaine and nodded.  
"Thank you."  
"Look around. There’s no rush. Maybe you'll see something. We've removed all the curses, so all that's left is...well, Grindelwald's had his hands all over here, but he doesn't seem to have been in any particular hurry to destroy what he found," Fontaine murmured, before walking off to leave Theseus alone.

Theseus started out by searching for any remaining strands of spells which lay in wait to snag or trap him. Finding none, he walked around the room, picking up ornaments, trying to get inside of the mind of the man who owned the room, and of its most recent inhabitant. 

The map of New York spread out on the writing desk and covered in indecipherable scribbles wasn't Percival, and nor was the book discarded on the mantelpiece. But the one that had slipped beneath the sofa, the one which was half open - that was Percival. There was something about the way it lay on the floor that reminded Theseus of the war. 

Carefully he picked it up, turning it so that he could see what was on that page. The page was full of information about Polyjuice potion - perhaps a warning, but one that contained no new information. Theseus could imagine the fight that had happened here. He knew Percival well enough to be sure he wouldn't have given up easily. When all had seemed lost he had found a way to give them a warning.   
Had Grindelwald attacked him using Percival's own face? Theseus shuddered, imagining the terror that must have crossed Percival's thoughts. For a second he considered a sudden spark of green light. He pushed that thought away, not wanting to allow it to continue. There was nothing to be gained by allowing his thoughts to drift along that path. Percival would still be alive out there somewhere. He had to be.

So Grindelwald had captured him at home, and used the house as the base of his own search - the map of New York must have been his hunt for the obscurus. He stared at the notes across it - the ones that weren't in Percival's hand. A lifetime of letters made that easy enough to spot.

There at least was the confirmation he was waiting for. Notes about the aurors. "Goldstein - observant but headstrong - demote. Fontaine - eager but distractable - keep busy. Theseus - writes from England - say you're busy." Notes about Seraphina as well - words that Percival must have provided. Percival had informed on his aurors, his friends, to keep them alive.

The notes being on the desk meant that Percival had to be nearby.  
"He's here," Theseus said softly. "I think he's somewhere in this house."  
Fontaine drew his wand, and Theseus followed suit. There were dozens of barriers that Percival had put up, and ones that Grindelwald had added. It made searching for a sign of life hard. 

Theseus made his way up to the bedroom, seeing a chest by the corner. He opened it, and found books. The wardrobe yielded clothes, and the bedside cabinet was filled with further books.

Theseus looked around the room, sure that somewhere there would be the answer he was seeking. He aimed his wand at the bed itself, waving it to levitate the mattress. He nearly let it slip at the sight that greeted him.

Percival was laying beneath the mattress, wrapped in chains, a gag forced into his mouth and his eyes blindfolded. His hair was long aside from where chunks had been cut off for polyjuice potion. His clothes were stained with blood - unhealed wounds trickling out onto the floorboards where cleaning magic wiped it away. Theseus could recognise the faint glow around him. Spells had been used to keep him alive, but not to keep him comfortable or help him. He was surviving, but only that.

The prisoner, realizing the mattress was gone, thrashed in his bonds, trying to kick out. Fontaine readied a stunning spell, but Theseus thrust out a hand to stop him.

The challenge was leaning in to remove the blindfold without being hit by Percival's panicked flailing. He managed to slip it down on the second attempt, revealing Percival's eyes. The man looked around in confusion, until he noticed Theseus there. Then the man flinched as though he was in pain.

"Easy..." Theseus murmured, thinking of the hippogriffs when they were children. There was a particular tone of voice you used with an injured creature. Newt was the expert, but Theseus had used it before. It seemed to work as he carefully unfastened the gag from Percival's mouth.

"You bastard." Percival snarled. "Not. Him."  
"Perce?" Theseus said softly. "The sun is shining outside."   
Uncertainty flickered across Percival's face, but he didn't fight as Theseus began to remove his restraints.  
"Is it?"  
"I came as soon as I heard," Theseus told him. "I'm sorry. I was suspicious but I was caught up in my work... The Minister's given me a few days with you. If you want them."  
"I want them." Percival shuddered. "Where... where is he?"  
"MACUSA's cells," Theseus answered.

"He'll get out. I betrayed-" Percival began, and Theseus shook his head.  
"You kept them alive. He hurt you." Theseus was crouched down beside him as Fontaine ran diagnosis spells. "And you told him what he needed to know to not kill the aurors that serve you. That wasn't treachery."

"A few broken bones, some nasty nerve damage from the cruciatus, and severe malnourishment." Fontaine explained. "It's good to have you back sir."  
"None of you...noticed I was gone?" Percival asked.

"We realised you were out of sorts," Fontaine murmured. "We just thought that you had had another fight with Theseus."  
Theseus managed to hide a smirk as Percival struggled to his feet, supporting his weight.  
"Need to go into the office, see if he's made a mess-"   
"You need to go to the hospital," Theseus insisted, and Fontaine nodded. Theseus leaned in. "I'll stay over for as long as you need me to."

Percival nodded slowly.   
"I suppose I should go to hospital. But then I have to undo whatever he has done."  
"If anyone can fix this it's you," Theseus said firmly. "But we need to get you checked over."  
"You knew it wasn't me," Percival said, desperately needing the reassurance.  
"I knew something was wrong," Theseus confirmed. A few moments passed between them, and then Percival reached down to squeeze Theseus's hand.

"Nothing's wrong now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this fic - however I have enjoyed writing it and may add more to this universe. Thank you for all your support, especially those of you who have commented and encouraged


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